


The Road

by Gumnut



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Gen, Near Death Experiences, Supernatural Elements, freaky weird
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:14:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22661566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gumnut/pseuds/Gumnut
Summary: "Don't let him sacrifice everything."
Comments: 5
Kudos: 30





	The Road

**Author's Note:**

> Title: The Road
> 
> Author: Gumnut
> 
> 6 Feb 2020
> 
> Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS
> 
> Rating: Teen
> 
> Summary: “Don’t let him sacrifice everything.”
> 
> Word count: 2118
> 
> Spoilers & warnings: None, other than weirdness.
> 
> Timeline: Season One sometime.
> 
> Author’s note: This is really weird. I’m totally not sure about it, totally not sure what it means or where it went. I know nothing, claim nothing, it probably is nothing. I hope you enjoy some of it, maybe, if you’re lucky ::shrugs:: I haven’t a clue.
> 
> This is for the first week of FabFiveFeb 2020 - Alan, dirt road. Challenge can be found here.
> 
> Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.
> 
> -o-o-o-

The road stretched off into the distance.

Pale gravel limestone, sat as if it had just been graded. It climbed over the green hillsides and vanished off into the distance.

He turned in the opposite direction.

The road continued that way, too, but it vanished into darkness, its stark white swallowed by ancient trees, gnarled and bent, as if scooping the road off its surface and eating it whole.

Alan shivered.

He knew he had to make a decision of which way to go, but he was tired. Ever so tired.

It had been such a long week. Rescue after rescue. On land, on sea, in space. He and his brothers were so worn, it hurt.

It hurt, so much.

A slow blink.

“Alan!”

He startled. “Virgil?”

But there was no one.

Until suddenly there was.

A man was standing on the other side of the road.

It took him a moment to recognise the greying hair, the grey eyes…the flamingo shirt.

“Dad?”

The man didn’t answer. He just smiled a little and stared at Alan.

“Alan! Oh, god, don’t do this to me!”

“Virgil?” But his brother was nowhere to be seen. “What’s going on? Dad?”

A wind whipped up and a dust devil danced along the road in the distance, but other than that, there was silence.

His father smiled gently and held out his hand.

-o-o-o-

Virgil was in hell.

It had been a shit of a week. Too many rescues, too many losses, and he was exhausted. They were all exhausted, and exhausted led to mistakes.

The one saving grace was that Virgil was decked out in his exo-suit when it happened. One, it protected him and he was able to push off the rubble that collapsed on them. Two, when he found Alan crumpled under fallen powerlines, he was able to sever the electricity with one desperate claw.

“Alan!”

He moved…everything. He barely took the time to ensure his own safety before flinging rubble out of his way.

Comms. “Scott! Alan’s been injured. I need you!”

As soon as his way was clear, the exo-suit was shed and he was beside his little brother.

His lifeless little brother.

No breath.

No heartbeat.

God, no.

Please.

His reaction was automatic. Don’t think, just do.

Stabilise, clear airways, breathe for his brother.

Heart. Get his heart beating. Count.

Breathe.

Breathe again.

Please.

Chest compressions.

Please.

No response.

No response.

Breathe again.

C’mon, Allie, God, please.

“Scott, where the hell are you?!”

Heart. Get his heart beating.

Breathe.

No response.

“Alan! Oh, god, don’t do this to me!”

He fell into rhythm. Beat. Breathe.

Beat. Breathe.

Keep him alive. Keep him alive.

God, Allie, please!

-o-o-o-

“Dad?”

The man didn’t answer, but his expression was one of familiarity, fondness. His hand beckoned Alan forward.

Alan frowned and stepped onto the road.

The limestone crunched under the soles of his sandshoes.

Sandshoes?

He was wearing his clothes from home. His uniform was gone and replaced by his favourite guitar t-shirt, its frayed neckline soft against his skin. The cold breeze caught the hairs on his bare legs, teasing them to goosebumps.

Where was his uniform? Was he wearing his uniform?

One step after another and he crossed the road to stand in front of his father. “Dad?”

“ALAN!!”

It was screamed and spoke of so much pain. Virgil. Screaming.

Alan stumbled where he stood, eyes searching for his brother. “Virgil?”

But the wind in his hair was the only answer.

He felt numb, his thoughts slow. Something wasn’t right, but he couldn’t process why.

A hand reached up and cool fingers gently touched his cheek. It took Alan a moment to realise they weren’t his own.

A frown.

There were tears in his father’s eyes. “Dad?”

The man still didn’t answer, instead both hands cupped Alan’s cheeks. His father lowered his head until their foreheads touched.

A tear fell from his father’s eye and it hit the road in a little puff of powdered limestone.

“Dad, what is going on?” Through the molasses in his mind worry was finally worming its way through. This wasn’t right. This was his father! Where the hell was he?!

But he didn’t get a chance to ask before the world lit up in a rainbow of pain and his whole existence froze in agony.

Time stopped.

Everything stopped.

Limestone dust caught in his mouth and climbed up his nose. A gasp and he sneezed, his whole body spasming with pain, curled up on the gravel.

The world blinked out again and Alan’s back arched in a wordless scream only to fall limp a second later.

“Alan! C’mon!”

Scott. His big brother. He looked up expecting blue eyes but only found grey. The older man was leaning over him, offering a hand again.

Alan took it.

-o-o-o-

It became a mantra for Virgil. Time faded and his everything was to keep his little brother alive.

Muscles ached and burned. His head swam as his breathing was compromised in the attempt to breathe for Alan.

For Alan.

God, please, Alan.

His little brother was still at the gawky stage, still growing into the man he had to be. Had to be. The bones under Virgil’s large hands almost small in comparison.

Count. Compress. Breathe.

Count. Compress. Breathe.

Virgil’s brow crumpled a moment and his pace faltered. No!

“ALAN!!” Goddamn you, please.

Nothing.

Nothing an unarticulated sound broke through his lips and his heart trembled.

No!

Count. Compress. Breathe.

And suddenly Scott was there. His big brother sliding in beside him. Equipment appeared. Gordon appeared. Alan’s slack face disappeared under a breathing mask as Gordon took over.

Paddles. A call to clear.

His little brother’s bruised ribcage jumped.

“Again.”

Scott’s calm assurance and the whine of the defibrillator.

Another sharp shock that shook Virgil almost as much as it did his prone brother.

“Alan! C’mon!”

Virgil checked for a pulse.

Nothing.

No, no, no, no…..

Scott started compressions again.

Terror in his eyes.

-o-o-o-

“Come with me.”

Alan climbed to his feet, his thoughts caught in those grey eyes. His father’s voice was like a long lost memory.

“Where are we going?”

There was no answer. The man turned and pulled him in the direction of the hills and the road that appeared to go on forever.

Something in the forest behind them screamed.

“What’s happening?” Gravel crunched under his step as the road wavered on ahead of him.

“Scott needs you. You have to look after Scott.” And he was suddenly spun around, grey eyes ever so passionate. “Don’t let him sacrifice everything.”

Alan’s eyes widened and he took a step back. “Dad?”

“Please, Allie.”

“Allie, please!” Scott’s tortured echo of his father’s voice bounced across the landscape.

“Go.” Hands shoved him gently down the road. “Go!”

“But-“

“Go!” And those hands shoved, sending him tumbling just as another arc of agony tore across his landscape and took everything away.

-o-o-o-

The beep that woke him was directly out of one of Grandma’s daytime dramas and so predictable he actually let out a laugh.

Followed by a cough and a groan.

“Allie?” It was whispered, but so very Scott.

He blinked and turned his head only to come face to face with a messy tuft of black hair on his bed. Wha-?

Fingers touched his cheek and he shivered. For a split second he hesitated turning his head in the opposite direction, scared of what he might find.

“Allie?”

Familiar, but worried blue eyes greeted him. “Scott?” Augh, dry throat and a chest that throbbed in time to his heartbeat. “What happened?”

A straw touched his lips and he took the barest of sips of blessedly cool water.

“How are you feeling?”

A moment to assess himself. “Like Virgil used me for his gym mat.”

An eyebrow arched and then frowned. “What do you remember?”

A blink. “Call out in Two. Earthquake.” A frown. “Aftershock.” A moment of pure terror and he turned his head back to the black tuft of hair snoring softly beside him. “Is he okay?” His voice came out an octave higher that usual.

“Virgil’s fine. Exhausted, bruised and with a few extra grey hairs he has to dye out, but he isn’t seriously injured.”

“So what happened?” He continued to stare at the hair as it gently moved with Virgil’s breathing.

“You were both caught on the edge of a building collapse. Powerlines came down with it and you were caught by them.”

Alan turned to face his eldest brother again. “Oh.”

His fingers were picked up from the bed sheets and to his horror his brother’s hands holding them were shaking. “You scared us.”

Blink.

His hand was squeezed. Scott bent his forehead down and held Alan’s hand to it, closing his eyes. “Please don’t do that again.”

A swallow. “Not planning on it.”

“Good.” His hand was returned to him as if it had never been taken, his brother’s fingers resting lightly over it. “Rest, Allie.”

Despite the pain, rest was the last thing on Alan’s mind. “Where’s Gordy and John?”

“Grandma and John dragged Gordon out for food. They should be back soon.”

“Kayo?”

“Handling hospital security.”

To be expected. He sighed.

That handed patted his. “Rest.”

“I saw Dad.”

The patting stopped.

“What?”

“I saw Dad. He says I need to look after you.”

Something changed in Scott’s face. Something cold and fear-filled crept into his eyes. “You did?”

“I did.” And then what he was saying caught up with his sluggish brain. “I was dead, wasn’t I?”

Scott swallowed, but didn’t answer.

“I was dead and I saw Dad. Does that mean…?”

His big brother’s large hand curled around his and gripped just that touch harder than necessary. Parched voice. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“But Scott-“

“You didn’t die. It doesn’t mean anything.” That something in his brother’s eyes caused the cardiomonitor to beep out of sequence.

Scott started, blinked and visibly gathered himself, his commander facade smoothly slipping into place. His grip loosened on Alan’s hand, once again becoming gentle and the ever caring brother he knew Scott to be.

Quiet. “It doesn’t mean anything, Allie. You were injured and our brains do weird things at the edge of consciousness, you know that.”

Yeah, he knew that. But ghostly fathers hadn’t been in the medical training.

He turned his brother’s grip on his hand around and clasped it in return. Dragging his other hand with its monitor and IV off the bed covers, he gently draped it over Virgil’s shoulders. The snoring snuffled a moment before smoothing back into its regular pattern again.

Alan felt oddly grateful to feel his brother’s chest moving slowly up and down.

“You need to rest.”

A blink and Alan was caught in those worried blue eyes again.

A sigh. “So do you.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. You need to rest, Scott.”

His brother’s lips thinned and Alan suddenly felt like he had offered to take on a raging bull. He’d seen Virgil tackle his determined brother enough times.

Emotional blackmail. “I’ll feel better if you rest.”

Those lips thinned even further.

“Please , Scotty, I’m fine, I promise.”

And to his surprise, his big brother sagged where he sat, his head once again dropping. Alan’s hand was brought to Scott’s forehead and held there with both hands. “Thank, god.”

Alan lay there blinking for a moment, simply staring at his brother.

Virgil snorted in his sleep.

Alan slipped his hand from Scott’s hold and reached around his brother’s neck and gently pulled him down to the bed. Of course, Scott resisted, but Alan persisted and eventually his brother complied.

Now he had two dark heads of hair lying on his bed.

“What are you doing?” Scott sounded a little freaked out.

“What you’ve done for me all my life.” He patted his eldest brother’s shoulder gently. “It’s okay.”

“It’s weird.”

“Yeah? Well, welcome to my world.” Actually, it was rather nice to have his two big brothers together with him.

Virgil snorted again.

Well, mostly with him.

“You need to rest. Grandma’s going to kill me if she thinks I’ve kept you up.”

“I’m fine. I just…”

“What?” And Scott tried to sit up.

“Stay there, Scotty, please. I just want you here.”

His shoulders relaxed a little. “Okay.”

So, he wasn’t exactly willing, but Scott was here. There was more to unpack than his tired brain was able to work out, but Scotty was here and he was safe.

Safe. He had to keep him safe.

The ghost at the back of his mind smiled.

-o-o-o-

FIN.


End file.
